


Exactly Where We Belong

by Robin Hood (kjack89)



Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: Alternate Universe - Grey's Anatomy Fusion, Alternate Universe - Hospital, Blood, Brain Surgery, Canonical Minor Character Death, Developing Relationship, Doctors & Physicians, M/M, One Night Stands
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-01
Updated: 2017-07-01
Packaged: 2018-11-21 23:30:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11367876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kjack89/pseuds/Robin%20Hood
Summary: Carisi wasn't sure what he expected from his first day as a surgical resident at Stabler-Voight University Hospital, but it definitely wasnotsupposed to go like this.





	Exactly Where We Belong

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tobeconspicuous](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tobeconspicuous/gifts).



> This is firmly and solely the fault of the ever-wonderful tobeconspicuous. You know what you did.
> 
> While this is a Grey's Anatomy AU, I've based much of it on the pilot episode, so if you've never seen the show, most of this should still make sense. Hopefully.
> 
> SVU plot-wise, this is based very, very loosely on S16E01 “Girls Disappeared” (because, like, Carisi’s first day and all). On the Grey’s side, I’ve drawn heavily on Grey’s Anatomy episodes S01E01 “A Hard Day’s Night” and S05E16 “An Honest Mistake”. Title comes from Grey's Anatomy episode S07E20: “Just when we think we figured things out, the universe throws us a curveball. So, we have to improvise. We find happiness in unexpected places. We find ourselves back to the things that matter the most. The universe is funny that way. Sometimes it just has a way of making sure we wind up exactly where we belong.”
> 
> Usual disclaimer: I own neither SVU nor Grey's Anatomy. Please be kind and tip your fanfic writers in the form of comments and/or kudos!

Carisi awoke with a start to a blaring alarm coming from somewhere in the room and he had barely managed to lift his head when the person lying in bed next to him reached out to slap the alarm into silence. Blinking blearily, Carisi watched as the very naked man next to him slowly sat up and rubbed his eyes before looking with something close to dismay at the clothes scattered throughout the bedroom. “Oh, fuck,” the man groaned, squinting at Carisi as if just noticing him.

While a part of Carisi figured he should be offended at such a reaction, waking up next to a ridiculously handsome man with just the right amount of stubble had put him in far too good a mood to be bothered. “Morning,” he said cheerfully, sitting up and running his free hand through his hair, pleased when the man followed the gesture with his eyes.

The man just grunted, wrapping the blanket around his waist as if that was going to solve anything. Carisi reached up to untie his left hand, which was still tied to the headboard with a bright pink checkered tie that he only vaguely recognized as the man’s from the night before, and cleared his throat, holding the tie out to its owner. “This is—”

“Humiliating on so many levels,” the man finished, snatching the tie from him, and Carisi’s grin widened when he saw that the man was blushing, just a little. “You should go.”

Carisi rolled his shoulders to work the kinks out of them and stretched, well aware of the man’s eyes on him. “And you should come over here so we can pick up where we left off,” he said with a dirty grin, about to add to the suggestion when he caught sight of the clock over the man’s shoulder, his smile disappearing. “Shit, is that the time?”

The man raised an eyebrow at him. “Yes, which is why you have to go.”

“Trust me, I’m goin’,” Carisi said, scrambling out of bed and gathering up his clothes — the ones he could find, anyway. “I’m late, which is not what you wanna be on your first day of work.” He chanced a glance back up, and smiled at the guy, who was watching with a bemused expression. “Did I tell you about that last night? I can’t honestly remember — too many tequila shots. But today’s my first day, and—”

“We don’t have to do this,” the man interrupted smoothly. “Exchanging personal details, pretending we care...” He stood, keeping the blanket firmly wrapped around his waist. “I’m going to go take a shower, and when I get back, you won’t be here, so, goodbye, um…”

He trailed off, clearly trying to remember Carisi’s name, and Carisi couldn’t help but grin, even if he was going to be late to the hospital for his first day. “Sonny,” he provided, holding his hand out for the man to shake, which seemingly against his own volition, he did.

“Rafael,” he said shortly.

Carisi’s smile softened slightly as he repeated, “Rafael. Nice meeting you.”

Rafael rolled his eyes and pointedly turned away to head towards the bathroom. “Goodbye, Sonny,” he said, but Carisi was pretty sure he could hear a smile in his voice as he disappeared into the bathroom, closing the door firmly behind him.

For a moment, Carisi just stood there, buckass naked in a stranger’s bedroom with a goofy grin on his face, but then he caught sight of the clock and swore, quickly pulling his clothes on.

He was going to be so late...but it was _so_ worth it.

* * *

 

Carisi was pretty sure if there was a world record for changing into scrubs, he would’ve beaten it, and while he had to put his white coat on while jogging down the hallway, he still made it to the nurse’s station with three seconds to spare by his watch. 

It was a good thing, too, since his new boss was waiting for him, deep in conversation with a pretty, blonde-haired doctor. “Dr. Benson?” Carisi interrupted, holding out his hand for her to shake. “I’m Dominick Carisi, Jr. Call me Sonny.”

Benson looked like this was the answer to a question she had never intended on asking. “You must be my new resident,” she said, a little coolly, and while she shook his hand, she instantly went back to her conversation with the blonde. “Where’s Luna now?”

“Fin took her to CT,” the blonde reported, with a bit of a southern drawl. “And Amaro’s monitoring John until we can get in touch with their families.”

“Thanks, Rollins — keep me posted,” Benson ordered and the blonde nodded and disappeared with only a quick, furtive look at Carisi. “So I asked the Chief of Surgery for an experienced, talented resident and instead they sent me a second-year resident who’s on, what, his third surgical residency program?”

Carisi shrugged. “Technically, fourth,” he corrected with a smile, because once again, his good mood heavily outweighed feeling offended. “Most recently I was at New York Presbyterian in Queens, then Mount Sinai Brooklyn before that, and I started at Staten Island University.”

Benson gave him a measured look, clearly trying to figure out how long he was bound to last there. “Hopefully you'll last longer at Stabler-Voight University Hospital,” she said, handing him a file and a pager. “I have five rules. Memorize them or you’ll be oh for four and your all-borough tour of residency programs will continue in the Bronx.”

Without warning, she took off down the hallway, and Carisi had to jog to catch up to her. “Rule number one, don’t bother sucking up. The only thing that matters to me is how well you do your job. Rule number two, that file I gave you has trauma protocol and phone lists. Nurses will page you, and you will answer every page at a run.” She gestured to a door on the left. “On call rooms. Sleep when you can, where you can, which brings me to rule number three: if I’m sleeping, don’t wake me, unless your patient is actually dying. Rule number four, the dying patient better not be dead when I get there, because not only would you have killed someone, you would also have woken me for no good reason.” Benson stopped and turned back to Carisi, raising an eyebrow at him. “Are we clear?”

Carisi hesitated before tentatively raising his hand. “You said five rules. That was only four.”

For a moment, Benson looked exasperated, but then in the world’s best timing, her pager went off. “Rule number five — when I move, you move.” This time, Carisi was prepared for her to take off, and he followed her closely down the hallway. “You’re in luck — the chief of neurosurgery has requested a resident to assist for the day, so I will be leaving you in the very capable hands of Dr. Barba. Try not to kill anyone, and good luck.”

Benson gestured toward a doctor standing at the far end of the hallway, clearly talking on his phone, and she clapped Carisi on the shoulder before leaving him to his own devices. Carisi took a deep breath and started walking towards this Dr. Barba, ready to introduce himself, when he stopped dead in his tracks.

Turns out, he wasn’t going to need to introduce himself.

Rafael was still deep in conversation on his phone when he turned and locked eyes with Carisi, doing what would have been a comical double take in a different circumstance, and Carisi felt his face burn red before, in a fairly atypical show of cowardice, he turned tail and ran.

Since Carisi had been in the hospital for approximately five minutes, he didn’t have any clue where he was going, but luckily, he spotted the blonde doctor from before down another hallway, and he hurried over to her. “Dr. Rollins, right?” he asked.

“That’s right,” she said, typing something into the computer. “Can I help you?”

“You’re one of Dr. Benson’s residents too, right?” he asked, unable to keep the hopeful note out of his voice. “What service are you on today?”

Rollins gave him a suspicious look as if trying to figure out why he was asking. “I’m in the pit doing scut,” she told him. “Thrilling, I know.”

“Sounds perfect,” Carisi sighed with relief. “I’ll trade you. I’m with Dr. Barba, you can take whatever surgery he’s got. I’ll do scut.”

Rollins frowned. “You’re tradin’ brain surgery for sutures?” she asked, crossing her arms in front of her chest. “Why? This is the kind of opportunity second year residents claw each other’s eyes out over.”

Carisi shrugged, shamefaced. “I, uh, I just don’t wanna screw up on my first day,” he said, knowing it was a weak excuse at best.

“So it’s personal, huh?” Rollins asked, with just a bit of glee in her tone. “What’ve you got against Barba?”

“Nothing,” Carisi said, a little too sharply, and Rollins grinned.

“If you want to trade services, you’ll have to tell me why.”

Carisi bit his lip. This was certainly not how he had seen his first day of work going. “Fine,” he said, huffing a sigh, though he quickly added, “But you can’t comment, make a face, or react in any way.” When Rollins just stared expectantly at him, he sighed again before telling her, “We had sex. Last night. Before I knew who he was.”

Rollins opened her mouth and closed it again, her shocked look replaced by a smug smile beginning to stretch across her face. “Was he good?” she asked. “I mean, he looks like he would be, so — was it any good?”

“It was great, perfect, wonderful, mind-blowing,” Carisi said shortly. “Now are we trading services or what?”

“Not on your life, new guy,” Rollins said, fluttering her eyelashes at him. “Have fun working with Barba!”

Carisi spluttered incoherently as she abandoned him with no other recourse but to retrace his steps and find Dr. Barba, who looked up as he approached, his expression carefully neutral. “Dr. Carisi,” Barba said pointedly in greeting, and Carisi frowned at him.

“How did you—”

“I asked Olivia where my resident had gone,” Barba said with a knowing glint in his eye. “That’d be Dr. Benson to you. She’s less than thrilled that you disappeared on me.”

Carisi sighed heavily. “Great,” he said sarcastically, then glanced around and jerked his head toward the stairwell. “Can we talk?”

Barba merely raised an eyebrow and Carisi rolled his eyes and grabbed Barba’s arm, practically dragging him over into the stairwell and closing the door behind them. “Ok, so, obviously, I didn’t know who you were last night and you didn’t know who I was, and—”

“And we should just pretend like it never happened,” Barba interjected calmly.

Carisi stared at him. “Like what never happened?” he asked blankly. “Us sleeping together last night, or you throwing me out this morning?” It was Barba’s turn to roll his eyes and Carisi couldn’t quite stop his smirk. “Cuz, uh, both are fond memories that I’d rather hold onto.”

Barba’s eyes narrowed. “No, there will be no memories,” he said shortly. “Last night was — a mistake.”

“Which time?” Carisi asked innocently.

“The entire night,” Barba snapped. “This cannot and will not be a thing, do you understand? I don’t sleep with residents. Especially not ones as disastrous as you’re shaping up to be.”

Carisi might have been persuaded to go along with Barba before he started insulting him with no good reason. “What I understand, _Rafael_ , is that you took advantage of me and now you want to forget about it.”

Barba gaped at him. “I did not take advantage—” he started hotly, but Carisi continued as if he hadn’t spoken.

“I was drunk, good-looking, and nervous about my first day, and you took advantage of that.”

Barba scowled. “Firstly, I was the one who was drunk, and secondly, you’re not that good-looking.”

Carisi looked down at himself and back up, smirking. “Ok, maybe not today. But last night — last night, I was very good-looking. I had my blue shirt on, and everyone says it brings out my eyes.” He paused. “Including you, as you were taking it off.”

To his delight, Barba blushed and averted his eyes. “You are a resident, and I’m an attending,” he said through gritted teeth. “Stop looking at me like that.”

“Like what?”

Now Barba looked up at him, his scowl back in place. “Like you’ve seen me naked. Now if you’ll excuse me from this _highly_ inappropriate conversation, we have a patient.”

He practically threw the patient’s chart at Carisi, who barely caught it before it hit him smack in the face. “Ellie Porter,” he read aloud, dropping the conversation for the moment and following Barba from the stairwell. “Primary physician is Dr. Calhoun…” He glanced up at Barba. “Who’s that?”

“OB/GYN,” Barba told him. “Private practice. Our patient is pregnant.” Carisi made a face and Barba raised an eyebrow at him. “Do you have something against pregnant patients?”

“Of course not,” Carisi said, rolling his eyes. “Private practice doctors, on the other hand…”

Barba laughed and Carisi couldn’t help but perk up a little at the sound. “I know exactly what you mean,” he muttered.

Carisi warmed to that, glad that they had at least _something_ in common, besides, well, the previous night. “They’re all the same,” he griped. “These private practice docs only care about how much they can extort from their patients, and I’m sure this member of the gyno-squad isn’t—”

He broke off when Barba cleared his throat, amusement clear in his expression. “Dr. Carisi, may I introduce you to Dr. Rita Calhoun.”

Carisi flushed crimson and slowly turned around to find a woman he could only assume was Dr. Calhoun standing behind him. “Uh, Dr. Calhoun,” he stammered. “Uh, nice to meet you, and I’m sorry—”

Calhoun waved a dismissive hand. “No offense taken,” she said sweetly, brushing past him to stand next to Barba. “I’ll just cry myself to sleep tonight on my piles and piles of money.” It was a clear dismissal as she turned to Barba. “How are you, Rafi?”

“If you keep calling me Rafi, I’ll be homicidal,” Barba said, though his tone was pleasant.

Calhoun just laughed. “Did you get the latest MCA doppler?” she asked, her own tone turning businesslike, and Barba gestured to Carisi, who handed the chart to Calhoun. She flipped it open and read through it carefully. “Hmm. So it’s what we thought.” She looked up at Barba. “Her blood pressure’s higher than it was yesterday.”

Barba shrugged. “We can’t wait any longer,” he told her dismissively.

Calhoun’s eyes narrowed slightly. “I know, I just—”

“You just want me to be aware,” Barba interrupted smoothly, and for half a second, Carisi was glad that he was an asshole to other people besides him. “I understand.” His tone softened slightly as he gave Calhoun a look that Carisi couldn’t quite read. “You’re a good doctor. Let’s just be good together.”

Clearly Calhoun understood what Carisi didn’t, since she dropped it, handing Carisi the chart back. “We could be good together all the time,” she said as they started towards Ellie Porter’s room. “Come to private practice, Rafi, it’s so much better here: more money, better hours, and besides—” She broke off and turned to look Carisi up and down, her lips pursing slightly. “—no one cares if you sleep with the interns.”

Barba rolled his eyes but Carisi scowled at her. “I’m a resident, not an intern,” he snapped.

Calhoun smiled like a cat that had gotten the cream. “And thank you for confirming what I suspected,” she said, turning her smile on Barba, who was glaring at Carisi with a murderous look on his face. “I look forward to hearing _this_ story.”

“Later,” Barba said curtly, yanking open the door to Ellie Porter’s room and stepping back to allow Calhoun and Carisi into the room. “Dr. Carisi, please present the patient.”

Carisi’s ears went red at Barba’s tone and he fumbled with the chart. “Uh, Ellie Porter, 24 weeks pregnant, admitted with seizures as a side-effect of a brain aneurysm.”

Barba took over from there, talking directly to Ellie, who was staring up at them with wide, scared eyes. “The lack of blood flow through the vessel is causing the seizures and aphasia. We can't put surgery off any longer, so what I'm going do is a repair that's called an EC-IC Bypass.”

“And that’ll...that’ll fi— fi—” Ellie tried to speak, unable to form the words, but Barba seemed to understand what she was asking.

“I’m very hopeful that it will fix the mini-strokes you’ve been having, yes.” He glanced at Calhoun. “And Dr. Calhoun will be here the entire time to monitor your baby.”

Calhoun cleared her throat. “Your baby is stable,” she told Ellie, hesitating for only a moment before adding, “But your labs show that you may be preeclamptic, and the stress of surgery can be a lot on your body.” She squeezed Ellie’s hand. “I will be there the entire time, and if anything goes wrong, I will do everything I can for you and your baby, ok?”

Carisi had to physically bite his tongue to stop from saying something until they were outside the room. “Was that necessary?” he demanded, glaring at Calhoun. “That poor girl is terrified!”

“And preeclampsia is serious,” Calhoun told him, frowning. “She needed to know that. We don’t get to pick and choose what information we give our patients, Dr. Carisi. We tell them everything. That’s our job.”

With that, she stalked off and Barba cleared his throat, looking a little too happy at what had just happened. “Prep Ellie for surgery,” he said. “You’ll be scrubbing in.”

Carisi looked at him, surprised, assuming that between Calhoun and last night, there was no way Barba would even consider letting him into his OR. “Really?” he asked.

“Calhoun will need someone to torture during surgery, and I would prefer it wasn’t me.” Barba was smirking and Carisi couldn’t seem to find any kind of comeback to that, at least, not before Barba left him there, still smirking.

“Damnit,” Carisi muttered before taking a deep breath and going back into Ellie Porter’s room.

* * *

 

Even though it wasn’t his first time, Carisi still couldn’t get over the feeling of awe he had whenever he stood in an operating room and literally looked down at someone’s brain exposed. “Is that the middle cerebral artery?” he asked Barba, who, despite not looking up from what he was doing, somehow managed to roll his eyes. 

“Congratulations, you passed gross anatomy,” Barba said mockingly. He held out his hand for a tool that his scrub nurse Carmen provided without any words needing to be spoken. “After I connect the STA, we’ll be able to close.”

From her position at the far end of the hospital bed, Calhoun straightened, concern clear in every line of her body. “The baby’s having spontaneous decels,” she reported. “Ellie’s hypotensive. Rafael, they can’t handle much more.”

Barba carefully cleared the field with saline. “The MCA is bleeding a bit, but it shouldn’t be contributing,” he murmured, and Carisi could see his brow furrow as he tried to figure out what was going on.

“Pressure’s dropping,” Calhoun said, standing. “The baby’s going to need to come out.”

“I’m almost done, Rita,” Barba said, strain evident in his voice. “Just wait.”

Though Calhoun looked frustrated, she still hung back, staring at the fetal heart monitor. “It’s not me that can’t wait. The decels are more frequent. We have to get the baby out or we risk losing it.”

Carisi glanced between Barba and Calhoun, feeling panic beginning to rise in his chest. “Isn’t the baby too young to come out?” he asked.

“The baby’ll have a better chance out than in,” Calhoun snapped. “Decels are getting longer. Rafael, I have to deliver—”

Suddenly, the entire exposed area of Ellie’s brain was flooded with blood and Barba swore, pulling back as blood spurted out at him. “The aneurysm burst,” he practically snarled. “That explains the decels and hypotension.”

“That settles it,” Calhoun said decisively, turning to a nurse. “Gown me. We have to do an emergency c-section.”

Barba surged forward, grabbing gauze from the scrub nurse in an attempt to stop the bleeding, but Carisi had a horrible feeling that it was too late. Even if they got to the aneurysm in time, he didn’t see how they could both repair the aneurysm and save the baby, and he threw a panicked look at Barba, who didn’t look up from what he was doing as he told Calhoun flatly, “If you cut her now, she’ll bleed out. Give me a moment. I can save her.”

Calhoun crossed toward Barba as the nurses hurried to prep Ellie for the c-section. “Rafael, listen to me,” she said calmly, and finally, Barba looked up at her. “The baby is not getting any oxygen now. I know that you want to save her, but Ellie’s gone. You need to let her go so that this baby has a chance to live.”

For a moment, it looked like Barba would argue with her, but instead, he took a step back, his hands falling to his sides. “Carisi, call the NICU,” he said quietly, his voice a little hoarse. “Let them know that we have a preemie on the way.”

Carisi hurried to the phone to call the NICU and from there, activity seemed to speed up around him, everyone but Barba moving at a run, nurses rushing around the operating room as Calhoun carefully removed the baby, who was so tiny that the breath caught in Carisi’s throat as he looked at him. As soon as the baby was out and in the incubator, the nurses whisked the baby off to the NICU and Calhoun took a step back from Ellie, looking exhausted. “Rafael?” she said quietly.

Barba just shook his head and reached up to turn Ellie’s heart monitor off. “Carisi, call it,” he ordered.

Carisi’s eyes widened as he realized what Barba meant, and inexplicably, since he had barely met the woman, he felt tears prick in his eyes. “Time of death, eighteen eleven,” he said softly.

As soon as the words were out of Carisi’s mouth, Barba was gone, shouldering his way out of the operating room and pausing only to fling his gloves and gown into a waste bin. Carisi looked at Calhoun, who was watching Barba go with a resigned look on her face. “I can’t believe she died,” Carisi said numbly, feeling like he needed to say something.

“Very few people could’ve survived an aneurysm blowing like that,” Calhoun told him.

Carisi shrugged. “Still. The EC-IC bypass went so smoothly, and then, just like that…”

He trailed off and Calhoun shrugged as well as she told him, “That’s the way it works sometimes. The patients we lose, the mistakes we make, even the freak accidents that no one could see coming — that’s how we learn. That’s the only way it’s ever been done.”

“I feel like you should be telling Dr. Barba this,” Carisi mumbled. “He needs to hear it more than I do.”

Calhoun shrugged again. “Maybe he does,” she said lightly. “But I don’t think he wants to hear it from me. Besides, I need you to remind him that he owes me the story behind whatever this is with you and him.”

But her tone was gentle, as if she knew he needed the thought of him and Barba to distract himself, and she reached out and patted Carisi’s shoulder before leaving him alone in the operating room.

* * *

 

“Hey, Doctor, you got a second?” Carisi asked, leaning against the nurse’s station as Barba filled something out on Ellie’s chart. 

Barba didn’t bother looking up at him. “Not really,” he said dismissively. “I’ve got fifteen minutes before I have to face a firing squad.”

Carisi winced. “The chief coming down hard on you?”

“Anytime you kill someone on the operating table, the higher ups tend not to look so kindly on it,” Barba said dryly.

“Look, you did — you did everything you could. And I know you know that because you’ve been doing this a helluva lot longer than I have, but I figured it couldn’t hurt to tell you anyway.” He saw Barba’s shoulders tense but didn’t pause. “It was a hard surgery, trying to fix the blood pressure from the aneurysm while she was that far pregnant. Most surgeons wouldn’t even have attempted it. And I just want to say, I admire your, uh…”

He trailed off, trying to find the word he was looking for, and now Barba did glance up at him, half-smiling. “My suicidal streak?” he supplied, and Carisi couldn’t help but grin a little at that. Barba sighed and quickly finished the note he was writing before setting the pen down decisively. “It was a good repair,” he said. “Sometimes things just don’t go the way we want them to. That’s the job.”

Carisi nodded slowly. “You practice on cadavers, you observe, and you think you know what you're going to feel like standing over that table, but…” He shrugged and rubbed the back of his neck. “You know, my parents tell everyone they meet that their son's a surgeon. As if it's a big accomplishment. A superhero or something.”

“We really don’t have to do that thing where you share something personal, and then I share something personal, and then somebody cries, and there’s like a moment,” Barba said with a touch of the same snark he’d had that morning, but Carisi knew better than to take it seriously this time. “Besides, you should get some sleep. You look like crap.”

“I look better than you,” Carisi shot back, a smile tugging at his mouth.

Barba just looked down at himself before looking critically at Carisi and shaking his head. “That’s just not possible.” Carisi laughed and Barba managed a smile before sighing and grabbing Ellie’s chart. “Well, I should go face the music.”

Carisi shrugged. “I guess you have to.” He took a step away from Barba and paused, wanting to say something but not sure what, eventually settling for, simply, “See ya around.”

“I’ll see you around,” Barba echoed, his smile turning into a smirk. “Oh, and Carisi? We don’t always get wins in this line of work. But when we do — well, the way I see it, superhero sounds pretty damn good.”

Though Carisi laughed, he couldn’t stop himself from blushing slightly. “Don’t look at me like that,” he told Barba, who raised an eyebrow at him.

“Like what?”

It was Carisi’s turn to smirk. “Like you’ve seen me naked.”

Barba just rolled his eyes and turned away. “See you around, Dr. Carisi,” he called over his shoulder.

Carisi grinned and turned to head in the opposite direction, stretching his arms over his head and yawning. Dr. Rollins fell into step next to him, giving him an easy smile. “How’s your first day been?” she asked with fake innocence.

“Not as bad as it coulda been,” Carisi said honestly, though he still gave her a look. “Thanks for not letting me swap with you.”

Rollins laughed and changed the subject. “Hey, are you on call tonight? Cuz I think some of us are gonna head to Forlini’s — it’s right across the street from the hospital.”

Carisi perked up slightly. “I could really go for a drink right about now,” he admitted.

“Good,” Rollins said cheerfully. “I want to get you liquored up so you’ll spill all the details about sleeping with Barba.”

Carisi rolled his eyes but before he could say anything, Benson interrupted them. “Rollins, are you coming? Fin and Amaro are already at the bar.” She glanced at Carisi. “Dr. Carisi. Going somewhere?”

“Actually, yeah, I was gonna head to the bar—” Carisi started, but Benson cut him off with a smile.

“Nice try, but you’re on call tonight.” She patted him on the shoulder. “Better head down to the pit and see if there’s any scut for you to do.” Though Carisi huffed a sigh, he didn’t protest, just nodding to Rollins and heading in the direction he thought the emergency room was in. “Oh, and Carisi?” Benson called, and he paused. “Welcome to SVU.”

Carisi smiled at that, his smile not fading even as he made his way to the emergency room, which was in chaos preparing for an incoming trauma. As much as he hadn’t expected his first day in his fourth residency program to go quite like this, as he pulled a trauma gown and gloves on, Carisi couldn’t help but feel like maybe he had finally found where he belonged.


End file.
